MeteorD — Roleplayer Guild

The Deacon Arms Tavern

【 Interacting with Sonja @vFear 】
【 Magical Energy: 1200/1200 】

"W-well, you could say I do." Truth be told, he wasn't too sure himself. The thin smoke coming from a cigarette seemed naturally appealing to him, and the idea of looking as cool as an 'action star' was too good to pass up. Of course, only having been in this world for a short time, his knowledge was limited to what had been bestowed upon him at the time of his Summoning. He was too impressionable both as a person, and as the Heroic Spirit of Kintaro. He recieved the packet for himself, holding it curiously as he examined the object that he felt this odd attraction towards. After his moments of fascination, he put it away to not be rude. "It won't be long. If somethin' happens, tell me immediately. Or, if necessary, use a Command Spell." He responded normally, but with a bit of concern. Going out on his own certainly wasn't responsible of him, but right now it was the one thing he 'needed'. As such, the conversation went naturally. "And don't feel like you have to sleep on the floor if it's only the one bed. I can deal with sharing if it'll keep you up to pace." He gave a nod, briefly waving to her as she went off to the stairs... "... Wait."

Having stepped outside the tavern, he didn't get very far outside before giving a heavy sigh. "Did I just agree to that?" For now, he didn't want to think about it, walking a bit off to the right in front of the building, out of sight from the windows. He didn't want to stray too far off, but he needed some space. While watched by the eyes of others, he had to keep his head up and his back straightened. 

"You are a man, so act like one!"

An old memory resurfaced. A demanding, yet reassuring voice from his life. From the one who had taught him to not only be a Hero, but an ideal Hero. As much of a brute as he was, he had become something more when working under her. Someone who had taught him, that even if he couldn't have his back straight for his own sake, then he should do it for the sake of others, so that they would not falter. It was a good lesson. Opening up the packet, he discovered the lighter placed inside the vacant space. He took it a cigarette out, pocketing the rest of the packet once more. Holding the wrapped paper 'container' between his two fingers, the whole thing just came naturally to him. His other hand ignited the lighter with a tiny spark, holding it towards the tip for a bit before bringing the lighter down to his pocket with the rest of the packet. The tobacco was drawn into his body rather easily, going unhindered. One unfortunate thing for a man like himself, was that light drugs, or any drugs rather, would do little to nothing for him, least of all cigarettes. None of it was absorbed into his Golden body, as it remained untainted, even after the cloud of smoke blew out from his lips. Still, the grey cloud that slowly thinned out in the fresh midnight air felt comforting, escaping the duties and expectations of those around him. He never disliked the feeling of others relying on him, but the empty street left him and the single smoke of cloud to have some time together. It only took a few seconds for the latter of the two to leave him, as he brought the cigarette back to his lips once more to watch it disperse once more. 

"You could have done something."

The thought came into his mind before escaping him. He tried to recapture it as another grey hollow painting in the air was made.

"You could have saved them."

He was growing frustrated with the cloud, but he still wanted it back. No, he deserved to have it back. 

"You could have been stronger."

The cigarette between his fingers was going through a painful experience, his grip on it steel-tight. 

"You failed them."

... 

A loud crash. Before he knew it, he was standing with his hand stuck in the stone wall of the elevated area that the tavern was built on. The only 'one' watching was the gathering of grey color behind his back, and broken cigarette between his fingers. His breath was heavy, making sounds resembling a marathon runner after the sprint of his life. Crudely, he dislodged his arm from inside the stone, shaking off the gravel and dust on his arm. After one deep breath, he was standing with his arms by his side, the remains of the cigarette lying beside his shoes as he stared upwards silent.

"Stand tall Kintoki."
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